Is This the Simple Life?
by Erik Thomas Stephans
Summary: Book/Show combo. Takes place after the events in Season 1/Book 1. 'It'd been almost a year now since Dexter saved me from myself. My insanity. Amazing how time just flies by.' Rated for language and violence.
1. Chapter 1

**Is this the Simple Life?**

_By Angelis Raye_

It was unsettling how quiet it was, under the bright moon that night. I couldn't quite get over the fact that this man trapped on the table before me was welcoming his death. Honestly, how could anyone do that? What was wrong with this man's survival instincts?

"Just kill me already," he begged, his voice cracked from... emotion?

"Why should I?" I asked, my voice void of any and all emotion.

And now he kept completely still. Frustrated by this turn of events, I took the blade in my hand and cut across his cheek, hoping to elicit some sort of squeal in response. All that I got was a loud hissing of breath being sucked through the clenched front teeth.

"Now, now, that won't do," I said, wagging my finger at him, scolding him.

The door opened rather suddenly, with a quick swish, the plastic sheets hanging from the top of the door sliding against the ones laid down so carefully on the floor.

"What's all the racket in here?" Deborah asked, peering around the room I'd made myself rather comfortable in at the moment, ready to have some fun with my playmate in the Dark Dance with something sharp. "Sorry. I thought you might be doing a remodel or something."

"Oh, just the usual – this one isn't much of a chatter," I whined to Deb, hoping that she might, somehow, make things better.

"Well, good luck with that," she said, coming close to me, lifting my mask to kiss me on the lips. "You going to be done soon?"

"I should be, Deb," I replied, replacing my mask, grinning wickedly at her, winking. "All I have to do is clean up in here real quick and I'll be done in time for dinner, as always."

"As always," Deborah repeated, grinning back at me, nodding. "See ya in a bit, then, Rudy... you too, Dex."

And the door swung shut, isolating me, my brother and my playmate from the outside world, letting the three of us get to work.

–

"You did well, tonight, Brian," Dexter told me, smiling faintly.

The smile was only somewhat fake, at least – and that was some consolation to me, who was fractionally more emotional than my younger brother.

"Thanks," I said, shoving the last part of our victim into the neat, black trash bags that Dexter had introduced me to for disposing the miscellaneous sections of the once-living human we'd just cut up into tidy little pieces. "It's only with your guidance, of course."

Following an awkward pause filled with the sounds of the ocean echoing around us, I smiled back, real and genuine.

"You saved me, little brother," I confessed, once again. I began to wonder if Darling Brother Dexter was tired of hearing that over and over. It must get rather redundant. "...From the irrational monster inside of me, that day."

"I couldn't just let my brother get caught, could I? You and Deb are all that I have, now."

–

"Dinner was wonderful, Deb," I breathed, relaxing against her on the couch. Dexter sat on the couch next to us, a few feet all that was separating us, physically. Mentally, we were almost never apart since we began confiding in each other, learning how to be brothers to each other, for real.

"Aw, Rudy," Deborah blushed, a bit giddy from the attention that I was pouring on her. "You can make dinner tomorrow for Dex and I."

She was family, in a certain way. Deborah was Dexter's foster brother, and I was Dexter's older brother. So, in a manner, the two of us were nearly as good as family. And once the wedding went through, Dexter and Deborah would be real family, too. The thought of that... made me feel strange, to tell the truth.

Dexter told me that he envied me for the sole reason that I was able to feel some emotion, unlike him. I didn't know how to react to that. Perhaps it was because I knew how to care and love for my little brother that I could still feel things, while Dexter hadn't known that he had a brother until recently.

It'd been almost a year now since Dexter saved me from myself. My insanity. Amazing how time just flies by.

"I don't know if Rudy knows how to cook anything but meat, Deb," Dexter said, his usual charming self.

"You're a fucking riot, Dex – Rudy cooks just fine!" Deborah countered, making a face at Dexter.

"See? Deb doesn't mind. And I'm sure that you don't, brother," I added onto the lady's defensive comment.

And the evening carried on much the same, ending with Dexter going back to his apartment for the night, leaving Deborah and I to our whims, bidding us good night.

_To be Continued...?_

–

Please review, tell me what you think about it. This is my first Dexter fanfiction, and I'll be very grateful to everyone who comments and answer any questions asked as swiftly as possible.

It's rather short, but it's a nice place to end it, according to a friend of mine. Thank you, Katy and Siri for the input on this.


	2. A Light at the End of the Tunnel

**Is This the Simple Life?**

_By Angelis Raye_

Chapter 2: Light at the End of the Tunnel

Morning... oh, brilliant morning. Deb is always astounded by how early I get up each day, have coffee made and ready for her, along with some breakfast. Often, she barely has time to kiss me goodbye and grab her coffee and a few bites of breakfast before getting off to her police work. Today was no different, of course, and she was off once she bit down her breakfast (of more than toast, which was usually all she had before she lived with me) and grabbed her coffee and keys.

I still can't believe that Dexter and I managed to convince her that she was safe, after all that had happened. Especially since she found out that Dexter (my real brother; her foster brother) was a serial killer – albeit, one that only kills other killers and lives by a strict code when killing. And of course, within the same day, she found out that her fiancé – me – was also a serial killer… but of a different sort, then. She had been hunting me (the Ice Truck Killer, or the Tamiami killer, depending on who you ask) down following a number of cases involve beautiful, bloodless corpses left gift wrapped and ready to be presented all over Miami, Florida.

She wasn't the one that caught me. Dexter was. Who else would know enough about me and my methods than my own brother, tied by blood – not just by some familial tie as he and Deborah were? The two of us looked enough alike from a distance in the night, the video had looked much like it was Dex committing that wonderful act at the ice rink. Apparently, I'd sent that employee at the ice rink through a few loops with my displays – I didn't mean to cause any panic attacks.

_Honestly_, I didn't. You don't believe me? Well, that's a shame.

Back to the subject at hand, now: Deb, my fiancée, was almost killed by the monster inside me, just to get Dexter's attention. My dearest brother, however, made me see reason, showing me there was a way beyond what I was doing – that killing Deborah wasn't necessary. He told me that killing her would be a waste of human life; Deb hadn't done anything wrong, other than having a loud mouth, which got her into plenty of trouble as it always has been. The hookers, he was willing to forgive – Tucci, he understood that I wanted to grab his attention. And I hadn't killed Tucci – I even helped in his recovery!

As I said before, I still can't believe that Deborah hasn't gone crazy from all of this madness. I wouldn't blame her if she went off into the deep end after the whole mess was over. Fuck, I rather expected she would go insane, to a degree. It's astonishing that she didn't. But I'm also very glad that she didn't. I have a fiancé, now. A real life.

Kind of.

It's very likely that Deb's in denial. Actually, I'd say that it's almost one-hundred percent true to say she's in the clinical state of denial. The definition of it, really. She still calls me 'Rudy', first of all, even though she knows that's not really my name. I've only heard her call me 'Brian' a few times – mostly when she's short with me. I would suppose that there might be a small possibility that she calls me 'Rudy' out of habit or to make sure she doesn't slip during social events, such as double dating with Dexter and his cute blond girlfriend, Rita.

How did Dexter manage his end of all this? Well, he's clever and charming – a naturally appeasing person. If you ignore the whole serial killer part, for normal people. I inherited much of the same good genes from our mother and father as he did, although I've been told that I appear to be more emotional and somewhat more anti-social. Blame that last part on being raised in a shity mental institute.

Dex has big plans for me and the rest of our make-shift family, now that Deb knows. His first goal after talking me down from killing the woman I love (if that's what you can call that feeling) was to teach me how to control myself – tie down the raging, crazy monster that's inside the both of us. That was hard, I'll admit – and somewhat painful at first, but I got used to it with time.

Everything after that was easy: learning the Code that Harry (Dexter's foster father) had taught him when he was young. This, as my little brother explained, was all that kept him from getting caught, as I nearly was. And would have been, if it weren't for him, I know – he doesn't have to tell me this. The Code is made of numerous rules. These rules, however, all add up to the success of escaping the legal sense of 'Justice'.

The Justice that my brother and I take into our hands… _that's real justice_; not that watered down bull shit they feed you everywhere else in the world. Deborah is enough like Harry that she understood this part – she's craved for it enough herself, a few times, as Harry had, according to Dex. That and the fact she comprehends how much her family (my little brother and I) means to her keeps her from reporting us to her superiors at her job. She doesn't do anything to actively protect us from the police, but she won't actively attack us or turn us in.

All of this makes me feel at home with how things are; how they've turned out for the good. Well, at least the better. I've retained my job as a prosthetist at the hospital; Dex has his job as the blood splatter analysis specialist in the Miami (Dade county) Police Department; Deborah, hers in Homicide, now. Yes, she got promoted – and it was a very happy (and by that I mean hectic and nearly mind bogglingly busy) day for all three of us when it was announced.

Dexter and I are just happy that Deb's finally shut up about needing to get into Homicide. Now, all she'll talk about is how she needs to get her Shield. Augh, wonderful – when will it ever end?

For me, it's time to get ready to go to my own work. Day job, really. Don't want to be late, do I?

Especially after what fun Dexter and I had with our little naughty playmate last night. Now's not the time to be raising suspicions. Not with the wedding coming up in just a few months.

Shit. Deb asked me to get the caterer last night, didn't she? Well, here's to another long day….

_To be continued._

--

And so, here's the second chapter. Hurrah! Today was the last day of finals... and wow, it's nice to have a few weeks off of school. As always, questions are welcome (and will be answered as quickly as possible) and reviews are very much appreciated in any form.


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